


sugar-high serpent

by Bloodsbane



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Aphrodisiacs, Candy, Candy Gore, Consent Issues, Cursed objects, Humor, M/M, Mild Gore, Regeneration, Transformation, Vore, willing vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:53:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29358276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/pseuds/Bloodsbane
Summary: Jon turns himself into candy, and he's so delicious he can't help but partake. Martin tries to help, but that ends up meaning something a little different than he intends.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	sugar-high serpent

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by and originally meant to be a contribution to Sexy Leitner Week, but even then I was thinking 'a phrase written inside a candy wrapper' was a bit of a stretch to justify as a Leitner ^^: So now I'm just considering the candy a random cursed object Jon happens to stumble upon. 
> 
> Further content warnings will be found in the end notes!
> 
> Special thanks to Silver and Francis for beta reading~

“Jon, what the hell are you doing!?” 

Jon, who was currently sinking his teeth into his wrist, froze. Looked at Martin without taking his mouth away from his skin. Or… No, not quite; looking closer, Martin noticed something a little different about Jon’s body. It seemed… smoother. At the point where Jon’s teeth were embedded in his own arm, Martin saw that the flesh there, though clearly punctured, didn’t seem to be bleeding. In fact, the texture looked oddly solid.

Then he noticed that Jon’s entire hand was missing, and resumed freaking out. “Jon!!”

“Sorry,” Jon said around his wrist. After what seemed to be a moment of internal debate, he removed his teeth from his body, licking his lips. “Sorry,” he said again. “I, uh. I think I ate something I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, your _hand!”_ Martin finally walked the rest of the way into Jon’s office. It was as messy as it always was, so the only thing totally out of the ordinary was Jon himself. He was seated on the floor surrounded by various statements and empty candy wrappers. His shirt had been unbuttoned and removed, but not untucked from his pants, like he’d been in a hurry to get at his torso. 

“No, I meant the candy.” Jon picked up one of the discarded wrappers. “I had a, ah, a dentist appointment last week, and they had a little bowl with candy, and I just- I wanted one, so I took one. Childish, I know, but it looked good… I like the little hard candies. But when I ate it, I noticed there was writing on the inside of the wrapper. It said: _May your life be infinitely sweeter._ One of those cheerful little phrases they put on things, you know?”

“Uh huh.” While Jon spoke, Martin slowly made his way over, eventually kneeling down beside Jon. He reached out and gently took Jon’s — oh, god — half-eaten wrist into his own hands, gently tugging it away from Jon’s mouth while he was distracted with his story. 

“At the time, nothing about the wrapper struck me as odd… Except, the next day, I found I really wanted something sweet. And since then, I’ve had a craving for candy. I’m not used to eating candy — my grandmother wouldn’t let me have too much of it growing up. I willfully abstained from partaking in what was made available by other children, and as an adult, it’s never really occurred to me that candy is something I could simply buy for myself. I’ve not really had a taste for it. And yet here I am, a week later, and I haven’t been able to stop eating the stuff.”

“So, what, the candy… made you eat more candy… and now you’re candy?” Martin asked in disbelief. 

Jon nodded. “I just noticed it a few hours ago. I was biting one of my nails, and I noticed it tasted… wrong. I bit it off, and it was like biting off the shell of some piece of candy. And then I noticed my fingertip tasted like chocolate. And I…”

“And you ate it.”

“I ate it.”

“You ate your whole hand.” 

Jon had the decency to look a bit ashamed. “I couldn’t help it! I… um. I tasted very good.”

“Jon!” 

“I did! Before I knew it, I’d eaten half. I did try to stop,” he grumbled, gesturing with his un-eaten hand to the statements on the floor. “I tried to see if I could find anything useful in these, maybe something that mentioned a similar issue, but, well, once I got into reading, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was putting in my mouth.” 

“And you ate your entire hand.”

“Yes, we’ve established my hand has been eaten. Oh! But!” Jon nodded at the hand, which Martin had decided to not look at directly. “It’s doing what it did last time. See?”

When Martin dared to glance at what he had in his hands, he realized that Jon was regenerating. He’d already grown back half of his palm. Martin watched with horrified fascination. It looked like his hand was melting, very slowly, in reverse. 

As he was observing this strange phenomena, something nagged at Martin in the back of his mind. When he tried tuning in, he realized it was a faint crunching and chewing sound. He lifted his gaze back to Jon, only to realize the man was biting his thumb. Off.

“Jon! Stop!” 

“What!” Jon complained, his mouth half-full. Martin desperately grabbed his other wrist, pulling it as far from Jon as he could manage. “It’s going to grow back!”

“Can you please just stop eating yourself?” Martin begged, trying to keep calm. What if Jon ate all of himself up? Was that possible? Martin thought about an ouroboros and felt queasy at the concept of Jon somehow managing anything similar. 

“But I taste so good,” Jon said, very simply, like it was something normal for him to point out. “I think if you tried some, Martin, you’d understand-”

“I am not going to eat any of you,” Martin told him, making sure his voice was very firm and didn’t tremble, not even a little. He tightened his grip on both of Jon’s wrists, keeping them closer to his chest than Jon’s mouth, and sighed. “We’ll figure something out. Just… just give me a minute.”

Martin stared at the ceiling, trying to formulate any sort of plan, but really he needed the moment to calm himself down. This was a lot to deal with all at once, especially considering Jon didn’t seem very much like himself. Should he call Tim and Sasha? They might know what to do, but-

Suddenly, Jon was very, very close. Martin made a noise of surprise, then another in question, then squeaked in shock as Jon pressed his body right up against Martin’s and slotted their mouths together. 

Wasting absolutely no time, Jon pressed his tongue against Martin’s lips; Martin, dazed, allowed him in without a second thought. His tongue felt… wrong, too-slick and sweet. Flavor flooded Martin’s tastebuds, making him moan and purse his lips. 

Then, as quickly as he’d come, Jon pulled away. A strand of something thick connected their lips, and Martin stared at it, feeling a sense of dread as he realized it probably wasn’t saliva. 

“Why…?” 

“I told you: if you taste me, then you’ll understand.” Jon stared at him with eyes bright and warm. “Don’t you like me?” 

“I- I, um.”

“Do you want more?” 

“...Yes,” Martin panted. It was a little hard for him to focus — he could still taste Jon on his palette. 

Jon held up his hand, the one where he’d bitten off his thumb. Martin now noticed, in the hole he’d left behind, there was something oozing out of Jon’s body. It looked syrupy, about as thick as honey, but he saw its red tint in the warm lights of the office. Just as Martin considered leaning forward to catch the drop now threatening to fall out of Jon’s thumb, Jon’s hand was pressed against his lips. Instantly, Martin opened his mouth and took it inside. 

It was delicious; sticky sweet raspberry that felt cool and soothing on his tongue. Martin lapped at the filling, then mindlessly pressed his tongue forward, into the cavern of Jon’s thumb, indulging in the taste of his skin. Jon made a delightful noise at that, moving his body closer to Martin as he encouraged his assistant’s ministrations. 

Soon enough, the thumb was gone, and then the hand, and then Martin put a hand on Jon’s stomach and let it sink in, in, until Jon crumbled into sugar-soft grit. Jon made an odd sound, a bit like a grunt, maybe like a whimper, as Martin moved his mouth from Jon’s oozing wrist to his collapsing stomach. 

Jon was gritty in his mouth, dusting his lips. Martin dug and found the preserves inside, dense and hefty, coated in the same liquid redness. For a time Martin feasted, but soon enough he grew distracted once more, this time by Jon’s gaze. 

“Mm?” Martin asked wordlessly, his mouth a mess of sweetness. 

“Come here,” Jon told him. Martin crawled up until they were face to face. Jon was lying down, now, flat on his back. One hand had grown back completely, but the other remained mangled, carved away by their teeth. Red was seeping into the carpet, and Martin was sure it would stain. 

“You taste really good,” Martin said, for lack of anything better to say. It was a little difficult to focus — his head felt heavy, his thoughts coming slow as molasses. “I think… um… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jon said. He put one of his fingers in his mouth, bit it off, chewed and swallowed, all without breaking eye-contact. Martin watched him lick his lips, leaving a trial of something that glistened behind. “Will you kiss me again?”

“I can,” Martin told him, waiting. 

“Can you kiss me?” Jon asked. “...Please?”

Martin found his lips a second time, this time choosing to partake. Jon’s mouth was warm and sticky, and he found it quite difficult to pull himself away. But Martin couldn’t help it, drawn to Jon’s exposed neck. He licked it, licked into it, searching with tongue and teeth until he found what was inside, something viscus and fizzy. He drank, relishing Jon’s moans of appreciation. 

Eventually, once Jon’s throat was a beautiful wound already sewing itself back together, once Martin’s shirt was stained with the evidence of his greed, Martin pulled away. He felt, all at once, satisfied. Very full and sluggish, actually. With careful movements, Martin crawled off Jon, settling himself onto the floor. 

“Jon?” he asked, feeling sleep fast approaching. Martin blinked, and it seemed to take longer than it should. When his eyes were open again, Jon was there, looking at him. His throat was back to normal, but he was chewing on a lock of his hair. “Hm… what’s that taste like?” Martin asked.

“Candy floss,” Jon told him simply. He pulled it from its mouth; the ends were dark and sticky from where he’d been eating. “Do you want some?”

“I’m sleepy,” Martin told him. It took him a moment to remember what he’d wanted to say before getting distracted. “Um… are you okay?”

“Yes.” 

“I’m sorry. I should try staying awake. To… to help?”

“It’s okay if you sleep, Martin. I’ll still be here.”

“You better,” Martin pouts, feeling himself slipping away. “Don’t ouroboros…”

“Hm? What was that?” 

But it was too late. Martin fell asleep, his mouth sugar-coated and numb with the taste of Jon.

**Author's Note:**

> CWs:   
> > obviously, this contains vore, but it's not just martin eating jon - jon eats himself, too. so in case this particular aspect is a squick, there's your heads up  
> > at first martin doesn't want jon to eat, and he staunchly refuses to eat, but then jon feeds some of himself to martin through a kiss, and martin's will to resist instantly crumbles. hence the consent issues/aphrodisiac tags   
> > the fic has an ambiguous/open ending, which just means i didn't want to worry too much about resolving the whole *gestures* situation. the fic ends w/ martin falling asleep while jon is still munching. but you're not meant to worry - i'm sure they figure things out~ it is by no means a bad ending, at least not intentionally. 
> 
> Bonus:   
> > candy stuff i was thinking of as i wrote this: milk chocolate, raspberry filling/syrup, brown sugar, jam w/ fruit preserves (for his guts!!), red soda (blood?), cotton candy (said candy floss instead 'cause it sounds cuter, and i think it's more common a term outside of the US?). had a hard time describing his nails succinctly, but basically you know that hard shell m&ms have? it'd be like that!


End file.
